Game Lord
by NKHeart
Summary: Inuyasha is just another of those trapped in a sadistic world of Monster Matches, where he must battle for his freedom. But while fighting corporeal forms, it appears that our favorite half demon is losing a battle with insanity...
1. Before the Match

**Disclaimer:** I have no claim of Inuyasha whatsoever. So don't ask, and don't sue, you won't get much if you do. (Oh hey, that rhymed…)

**Author's Note**: Hey! My second story, yay! And I promise to keep on writing! Just might take awhile since these are mainly just stress relievers from school, but odds are someone's bound to like it. After all, there are 6.5 billion people in the world. I'm writing this for you, pal! Anyways, go on and read. I'm done here, just had to announce the 'newness'.

There _might_ be some out of character-ness…Might be because I'm not really trying for it but it _could_ happen.

* * *

**Game Lord**

**Chapter 0- Before the Match**

* * *

"_Be gone, you damned creature from Hell! Back to your pits, your burning, your damnation! I cast you away- down through the bowels of the Beast to lay yourself down to eternal damnation!" _

**_Words, only words. Ignore them, they can't hurt you_**… The Voice whispered soothingly. **_only words. Ignore them…_**

****

****

He threw himself against the chains with a ferocious snarl, saliva flying from his crude fangs. He snapped, reaching for the black robed priest, struggling against wrapped iron-steel ropes, struggling to rip, to tear, to eat, to destroy. The demons holding him down grunted with the effort. He was wild, crazy, and for a halfling, pretty damn strong.

"Take him to Pit level D, next to the false priest! They can enjoy each other's Hell." The priest was disgusted by him; the half-demon snarled and ignored the still fresh pain of agony. A priest who accepted full demons, but not one with his mixed human blood? Bodily, the demons lifted him off the floor and carried him down the stairs into the waiting darkness. The priest, heaving for air, trembled. He would not go down to the darkness, all he would ever do was wait by the stairs and ignore the crazed, raging shrieks of the damned, for they knew fully, that they would never come out of the darkness once put inside. And no one wanted to know what waited eagerly for their souls.

* * *

"Hurry up, Lady or we will miss the best part!" Kagome winced and looked at her escort. She was shining and quaking with excitement of seeing the blood and gore of the Monster Matches. _She's a sadistic one_ thought Kagome and gave her a small smile, "You go on ahead Yuki. I'll just wait here for your sister…" Yuki was gone after the third word.

Kagome sighed and rested against the cool, marble wall. The thought of going out there to the crowd sickened her. She didn't even know why she agreed to come in the first place, but Yuka needed her and Kagome had to come. Kagome frowned; she just answered her own question there. A quick pace of heeled shoes interrupted Kagome and she straightened up to look more like she was just waiting instead of fighting waves of nausea at the thought of the Match.

Yuka came into view, "Wow, they really need to improve the lighting in here. These torches are about to go out!"

"Yes, so are you ready?" _And where were you_? She added silently.

"Yes." Though Yuka didn't look so, to Kagome she mirrored what she felt on the inside.

Yuka started walking and Kagome had to hurry to keep up.

* * *

Whoever said the Box was the most honored place in the stadium was sorely mistaken was Kikyos' thinking, as she sat idly fanning herself. She could see all of four rows down before a shadowy haze took over. But maybe that was a good thing, if this Match was to be as gory as advertised…

"High Lady Kikyo, the Match is about to begin, where is your sister?" Kikyo eyed the bumbling, frumpy man to her side. He was a nervous creature and reminded her of a frog. His jowls flapped widely when he spoke and his eyes popped as they scanned the stadium, supposedly looking for her missing sister.

"Kagome said she'd be seating with a friend. I believe I told you that." Kikyo shifted impatiently. No matter that the chairs cost as much as the servants, they were quite uncomfortable after too long a period of time.

"No, no. She can not sit with her friend, this is a momentous occasion! T-the Lady's must be sitting together!"

She tried to not roll her eyes, "You know as well as I do Mr.…"

"Gumption. Mr. Albadard Gumption."

Kikyo raised an eyebrow, "Mr. Gumption then, you know as well as I do that that myth is all what it is. A myth. Nothing to be taken seriously nor into consideration unless for a delightful bed time story."

The man floundered about, his coat tails flapping wildly, it was obvious _he_ deemed this a very special occasion and was becoming flustered if it appeared to be going wrong. "B-but, H-high Lady…"

"I tire of this, Gumption! Desist and leave me be!" a slight growl edged her voice and Mr. Gumption stood and walked away, quaking. His face was pasty and his eyes wider than usual. Kikyo sighed, a brief exhale of air. Anyone watching would never have known what it was. Kagome sure did pick good moments to not listen to her.

* * *

Dark. Everything was dark. And it reeked. Fresh and old urine and feces, the half-blood snarled quietly, this was a tomb. He could smell rotting corpses, assaulting his nose as bad as anything else in this pit. It was silent. Where was he?

**_We'll be fine soon, do not worry_**, the half-demon sighed and felt around the cage walls, feeling for anything. The Voice was talking to him again, he didn't like the voice, but it was better than this silence. This awful aching silence that had nothing to do with the Dark.

_**Soon we'll be free, free to do anything. Kill if we want to. **_

****

****

"N…no…" The half-demon's voice was scratchy and hoarse as if he had not used it properly in a long while. It didn't echo.

**_No? But you like killing…_** The Voice pushed on him, and the half-demon winced. It was happening again, the Voice would push and he would go mad again. And he would…

"No." He restated firmly, he did not want to do that again.

**_Yes, you will_**. The voice pushed harder and the half-demon fell to the hard, tightly packed floor. Blood pounded through his ears, his skull, his body. Adrenaline kicked in and he fought the urge to scream. The Voice was pushing him back- back to the bad thing that he could be. He didn't want to go there again, but he didn't want to return to himself. Then he would remember and he didn't want that either. The half-demon lay there, accepting that he would stay mad when the Voice relented and sent a comforting wave of coolness down his body, stemming the energy and rage away. Quieting it, locking it away for later use, the half-demon believed.

**_That's all right. I can wait. I'm patient, but are you, Inuyasha?_** The Voice sounded smug as it went away, and opened up the half-demon's unwanted memory…

_Blood, blood covered everywhere. He stood, covered in their blood and bodies and organs… He swayed. It was intoxicating…The blood, oh, the blood. His hand was raised to his forehead looking for all the world he was going to faint. But he wasn't, no, he was far from fainting…Tentatively he licked a claw, dark with bodily things. So good. This killing, this destroying. He chuckled darkly, no one would know what had happened…still swaying he looked around the room. The bodies, the bodies…He stopped. Where were the bodies? He looked, all he saw was red, globs of red, on the walls, on the floor, dripping, sprayed, riveting…oh, the blood…What had he done? Slowly, oh, so slowly, his mind resurfaced. The intoxication receding. He gazed with horror filled eyes, what had he done! His limbs started shaking, violently, without mercy; he felt his knees disabling themselves. No, no! He did not want to fall into this-this-this…He crashed a hand against the wall. It collided with…He screamed and ran._

He ran right past the guards, stupid silly thing to do. The Priestly guards took off after him once they realized that his skin and hair were not naturally that deep dark red color. So they had grabbed him, taken him to that priest. And that was when the Voice started talking to him. He lived in the cell of the Church, curled in a corner, slowly, he felt, losing his mind. But the Voice was there, always there, keeping him company. Soothing him, talking to him, whispering tales of high old adventure. Then the Voice told him how to escape. Told him to run, but he got caught again anyway and transferred to the Matches. He trembled. Here he was, in the belly of the Darkness, of the horrors and nightmares that were told to live under the Stadium. But he was alone. So, very alone, once again, trying to not remember when the madness starting to take control again…

* * *

-- The chapters will improve, I'm almost positive of it! -- 


	2. Newcomer

**Disclaimer:** Nope, don't own Inuyasha. I own Mr. Gumption though, forgot to mention that. But you can borrow him .

**Author's Note:** Blah, I think I rewrote this beginning at least six times

I like writing about Inuyasha, SO much easier than Kikyo or Kagome. They have a confusing plot right now. I'm chugging through it, though! So it shouldn't be too hard for the lovely readers hug I love my readers. I get so little of them. XD

* * *

**Game Lord**

**Chapter 1:**

**The Newcomer**

* * *

Seemingly alone, and left in the near-dark Inuyasha was outraged. With closed fists he pounded heavily on a hard-packed wall while stubbed claws tore through his calloused palms and the smell alone made his rage grow. He pivoted and launched at the other three walls, doing to them what he previously did to the first wall.

_There's nothing alive here, he was alone. Where were creatures to kill? Little creatures, that did not matter much…just enough to die-what was he thinking!_ (**_Does life really matter so little to you, Inuyasha?_**)

Amber eyes bled to deep red and he roared in agony. Inuyasha crashed to the ground, furiously scooping up the dirt around him, grunting with the effort of lifting so much in such a small space.

_What was he doing here? Here in this dark prison!_ (**_Yes, indeed, what can one do?_**)

He became irritated with the dirt flinging for all it seemed to do was land on him, smothering him even more so in the claustrophobic prison. He shook the dirt off him much like the way a dog will shake up running water. He stood and swayed, dizzy from his fast movements. Suddenly, he began swinging wildly at his body. Landing blow after blow on his battered frame causing more blood to mix with the dirt. A type of mud was beginning to form…

_Just dirt! Horrible, awful, unyielding dirt!_ (**_Oh, poor, murderer! Trapped with just some dirt in a prison as a victim! Oh, poor, murderer!_**)

Inuyasha screamed again and tore at his hair; he clutched his scalp and bit his arms. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't understand anything except his pain, his torment and the feeling that somehow he deserved it. He collapsed against a wall and took shuddering breaths, trying to regain some sense of sanity. He growled occasionally when he felt the Voice come and try to speak. But Inuyasha was tired of the Voice and wanted it gone. He was tired of the beating, the guilt and the Voice's mockery. He felt the Voice try to speak again, he felt him hesitate, and- **_You do not understand everything Inuyasha, remember that_** and Inuyasha's body was wracked with pain. Over and over again his bones and joints and muscles flexed and relaxed, flex and relax, flex and relax…until everything fought against its self; to move and to not move. Inuyasha accepted the pain and refused to make a sound of defeat.

The Voice abated the torture and went away. Inuyasha felt the Voice go, the absence left a feeling of emptiness in the innermost parts of his bones. To be able to come and go like that. How envious Inuyasha, _murderer_, was of him- a Voice, a figment of imagination- he fell weakly to his knees, nose scraping the hard packed floor.

"Let…let me…out…"

* * *

Miroku calmly watched the newcomer. He had also watched him rage against his cell, throwing his battered and bleeding body against the steel-iron bars. The half demon attacked himself, the bars, the cage, the dirt, back to the bar, himself again…Miroku picked absently at his food bowl (noticing that the prison guard was pilfering his meals again) waiting for the newcomer to exert himself. Then maybe Miroku could have someone to talk to-thrill! He glanced up; the half demon had collapsed against the floor.

His heaving back was facing Miroku, red and dusty hair draped lankly to his waist. Ears lay defeated against his scalp, pressed tightly. Miroku wondered if the half demon knew he had a neighbor. He decided to introduce himself, and he'd even be nice about it just so that the half demon would respond. Better yet, maybe they'd be friends! And then, if they were ever pitted against each other in the Stadium they would just do a revolution thingy and- maybe he should start at the beginning first.

Miroku took a deep, calming breath and:

"Hello there, reprobate!" He winced, gee, that didn't turn out right. "I mean, hey cadaver, what's happening?" That wasn't much better.

The half-demon stilled and didn't appear to breathe. Miroku took that as an invitation to continue talking; the newcomer wasn't telling him he was barking mad, yet. He'd try to be nicer this time though…

"So what brought your mean- er, lovely and damn-dah-der-demure! Oh forget it…What brought your mean and damned self down here? Only heretics and those destined for the deepest, darkest places in hell are sent here!" he said cheerfully deciding to go for brutal honesty; entirely ignoring that 'be nice' voice.

The half demon didn't budge. But Miroku noticed the gleam of angry eyes and continued on babbling, since he had an intelligent creatures' attention.

"Okay, so you don't have to tell me about why you're here. That's personal, and I understand personality. But I'm not an expert, least not anymore. That makes me think, how long have I been down here? Man, I used to know mostly everything, and if not then I could bluff my way through. But you know what I miss most? Nope, not my mind, ha-ha, you jokester, no, what I really miss are the girls! There just aren't enough feminine creatures down here! I mean, really, at this point I'd take the ugliest dog demon-"

"W…what…?" the newcomer stopped, tried again with his mouth opening and closing but no sound was emitted except one undecipherable grunt. He growled in frustration.

Miroku looked at the half demon curiously "Why do I get the feeling that's not all you wanted to say? Are you a mute? Wait, silly question, are you near-mute?"

The half-demon faced Miroku reluctantly and fanned one hand weakly in the air. Miroku had no idea what he was trying to get across but it seemed like he was waving away the question.

"Okaaay…" Miroku drawled "Lets play a game. I ask questions and you shake your head yes or no, shake your head yes or no to begin."

Newcomer (as dubbed so in Miroku's head) kept his head level and glared at him.

"Okay, lets begin!" Miroku continued on brightly.

* * *

Atop the Pit rests the Stadium and it was a behemoth of a building. The perimeter was elliptical with one end narrower than the other end. Inside the seating was the floor match, roughly the shape of a circle. Along the outer wall were numerous giant spikes that curved outwards. Along the opposite wall were the same spikes only smaller and thinner.

At the narrower end of the ellipse, known as the Box, was where the royals and officials sat when they came to witness the matches. The seats were the highest and lowest in the Stadium, depending on who was and was not in favor with the Emperor at the time of the match.

Murders in the match were fairly common and Row 1 had been nicknamed as 'blood line'. Anyone who survive the blood line were considered lucky and received back into favor with open arms.

But there were always the unlucky ones.

* * *

"Did you steal ancient treasure?"

"No."

"Did you steal jewelry?"

"No."

"What about…gems?"

"No."

"Did you steal anything at all?"

"_No_."

"Did someone frame you?"

"No."

"Did someone steal from you?"

"No."

"Do you say anything other than no!"

"No."

* * *

The Stadium was made by something bizarre.

There was a domestic dispute centuries ago among some nobles. The wife and husband were accused of affairs. Rumors flew about to who was guilty; for one loyal servant had let out that one of them was lying. This dispute went on for a year, and finally some noblewoman declared that after considerable effort she determined the husband as the guilty party.

By this time the city had divided itself into three factions: one composed mostly of women, and some men, declaring the wife the victim, and strangely almost the same amount of women, along with most of the male population, declared the husband was innocent. The third faction was composed of those who simply did or could not care, mainly peasants.

This feuding attracted the attention of the emperor. He was interested in the case and summoned the couple to him. The country held its metaphorical breath in wonder to what the Emperor had in mind for the couple. Would he help them? Would his detectives discover the actual truth?

Once summoned, the couple waited patiently while the emperor was thinking. The emperor eventually decided that to fix the issue the spouses would need to duel to the death, and that would determine who was innocent; in his mind the winner would be the innocent one, and nothing more would be said upon the issue.

Needless to say, the couple, and country did not have this 'fixing' in mind.

* * *

"Did you…" Miroku paused, obviously thinking hard; he'd been at this for half an hour now and thus far had not determined Newcomer's reason for his imprisonment in the Pit.

"I…killed…"

Miroku looked at Newcomer curiously, "You killed…?"

Newcomer moved to the prison bars, clasping the steel rods in his scarred and bloody hands. He clenched his hands when Miroku spoke.

"Yes." He finally said. Newcomer's voice was harsh and sounded like it hadn't been used in a while. Miroku hesitated from his next question but Newcomer looked at him and told him: "Ask."

"How many did you kill?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know? Were you insane or something?" Miroku was pressed against the bars now and he and Newcomer could have clasped hands if they had wanted.

"What's 'insane'?"

Miroku looked at the other man with wide eyes, "Insane is when you aren't sure what is going on or what has gone on. It's kind of hard to explain, but that's my thinking of it. I didn't really get a good education."

There was a lapse in the conversation.

"I think…I'm insane…" Newcomer began tapping a claw on the metal, looking expectantly at his companion. Miroku was quiet, thinking.

"I killed too," he said finally, "I killed a young boy. I didn't mean to; it was because of…" he paused, "It was an accident."

Amber eyes watched him, without condemnation, both of them were killers and understood the guilt and agony of the innocent- and accidental- destruction of life. Although…

"Are you…insane?" Newcomer shifted against the bars and unclenched his hands, bringing them to his sides.

"How can one tell? I don't think I am, but then again maybe I am and I don't notice because I'm insane. It's not like there's a person inside my head telling me if I am." Miroku grinned, "If I said I did then I must be insane."

Newcomer was quiet and withdrew from the bars entirely to rest against the dirt wall. Miroku, still grinning, began throwing dirt clods into his bowel. He was at ease with the conversation and digested his new found information.

Inuyasha looked at his knees curled up to his chest and tried to refrain from rocking. His conversation with the strange killer was odd. He thought everyone who killed was insane, that everyone had a Voice that spoke to them, but if what he said was true then…?

"So I am insane?" he asked himself quietly.

* * *

After hearing the command of the emperor, the husband was aghast. He protested that he loved his wife, that he was framed, that he was sorry, and the wife was silent. The emperor asked her if she had any protests but she stayed silent. The emperor gave them a time limit of six months; by then one of them, or both, would have to be dead and no one was allowed to interfere.

And the country went back to normal.

For two weeks the husband was jumpy, aggressive, abusive, and simpering by turns. After those weeks, he returned to normal; he was casual in his lusts, he returned to his old duties as a baron, and looked after his charge of peasants.

But the wife was silent.

She rarely spoke, and was always subdued. Some rumors said she was distraught with the emperor's decision and couldn't bring herself to kill her 'beloved' husband. The men just shook their heads and welcomed the husband back into their fold, although discreetly, they called him a scoundrel and despised him; for it was with their wives that had gotten him into his mess.

And it would be the baron's wife that would get him out.

* * *

A steady jingle of something metallic, probably keys, told Miroku that the prison guard was on his way down to Pit level D. Miroku turned to Inuyasha who was listening curiously, "That's the prison guard, he's bringing food right now. And right now I'm warning you, the stuff is poisoned and made for us to be angry and annoyed with each other so that when we're set against each other in the Stadium we'll rip each other to shreds."

"…"

"I'm just kidding!" Miroku gave a short laugh, and looked expectantly down the hall, "He normally comes slower than this, I think it's because you're here. Someone new to mess with, you'll see what I mean."

Inuyasha watched the glowing speck of light-signaling a hand held torch-come closer and closer until it illuminated the creature that was carrying the torch. Into view came a small creature turned an ugly muck green by the firelight. His eyes were bulbous, yellow, and stupid. His bill opened and closed and it took a moment for Inuyasha to realize the ugly buzzing sound was the creature talking, "Oh great! Another sallow human to feed! As if that awful priest wasn't bad enough! Another human! That's just what I need! Oh if only m'Lord saw me here, like this, he'd swoop down on those fools-" the creature stopped in his rant and his eyes widened as he gave Inuyasha a closer look.

"Oh!" he exclaimed and he fell suddenly to his knees in front of Inuyasha's cell. Inuyasha (and one extremely entertained Miroku) looked at the bowing prison guard.

"M'Lord! If I had known you were here I would have hasten sooner to your care and needs! Oh forgive me my Lord! Forgive this poor fool of a demon of his ignorance-!" he looked up cautiously, thinking that he should have gotten a beating sometime before the fourth word, and met Inuyasha's wide and blinking eyes.

The demon blinked. Inuyasha blinked. Miroku grinned. The demon jumped up with an angry shout: "Hey! You're not my Lord! How dare you impersonate him! I shall strike you down for your blaspheme!" And so the creature whipped out (from apparently- nowhere) a staff at least twice his size and attempted to bash the bars to Inuyasha's cell. It seemed to work, until the bars glowed yellow and a bolt of lightning zapped the poor prison guard. He yelped and lay stunned on the ground, his cart of food behind him.

"Hey- look! Free food!" Miroku reached eagerly between the bars for the soup bowel. But his hand was smacked by the creature who had recovered quickly when he realized the foods' danger. "Human priest, desist right now or you will receive nothing short but a severe beating!" the little demon huffed and puffed trying to regain his authority and composure.

Miroku pouted, "Aww but Jaken…I'm scheduled to fight tomorrow, how will I win if I don't have my energy?"

"That's _prison guard_ to you! And I don't care if you live or not! At least if you die that's one less fool to contend with!" Jaken roughly shoved a bowel of foggy soup between Inuyasha's and Miroku's bars and with a mighty glare of indignation took his cart back the way he came.

"Eat up Newcomer, you're going to need that strength." Miroku was slurping down the soup as best as he could, wincing between swallows.

Inuyasha looked uncertainly at his bowel; he could swear something just moved in it. But he tentatively raised the bowel to his nose, sniffed (gagged), screwed up his courage and took a great gulp.

The stuff was absolutely putrid. He coughed, hands clutching at his throat, and attempted to heave the liquid back up. But he had not eaten anything in a long while and his body was accepting any garbage by then. Inuyasha leaned back, trying to not look at the bowel and it's almost half-full contents.

"Oh it's not that bad." Miroku admonished, reaching across the hall for Inuyasha's bowel. The newcomer quickly pushed 'it' (Inuyasha couldn't bear to think what was in the soup) across to Miroku, spilling some on the ground; they watched as a puff of smoke went up from the spillage. Inuyasha raised an eyebrow at Miroku, who shrugged, and continued pulling the bowel to him.

"You get used to it," he slurped down the contents. "You'll regret giving this to me later. As disgusting as it is, it's the only food given down here, and that's only when they remember."

"Are you sche…scheduled…to fight?" His voice was still hoarse and long words took him a second or two to get out.

"Yes, today was a giant demon named Goshinki fighting against some new critter they captured a few weeks ago. I'm supposed to fight the winner. Though, I hope it's not Goshinki. But chances are he'll win. In fact, he should be fighting right about now…Not that we'll hear or anything. We're too far down."

"Why is that?"

"What the schedules or the fact we're buried under so much dirt that if it collapsed no one would ever find us?"

"Both."

"Ah." The priest fiddled with his right hand absently. "You know," he said suddenly, "I still don't know your name. At first I decided not to ask because you were practically killing yourself, and because I thought you'd be scheduled to fight soon and die. But now I want to know. I'm Miroku, by the way." He added on as an afterthought.

"I'm Inuyasha."

* * *

Nobody could say the baron's wife was a calculating and shrewd woman, on the contrary she was praised for being so sweet and even-tempered. Her long black hair was envied, and she was considered very lovely to look at. But that was before her husband's betrayal. Afterwards, there would be said for years of a ready gleam in her eyes, something that said she was preparing for something. Something, no one could exactly say, but many claimed she was after some lover to get back at her faithless husband.

Whenever she met the baron, after separating from him-since divorce was illegal- she was cold, but courteous and always asked how he and his latest mistress were doing. Needless to say, the baron was disturbed by her behavior but accredited it to stressful insanity. And he was always polite back and so their dragged on drama faded away. Nothing was spoken of again of the incident, until a few months later, the rumor's began flying again. This time, however, at the strange death of the baron.

He was found, lying across his bed, mouth opened in an almost perfect 'O' shape. His eyes were wide and seeing something far off into the ceiling of his mansion. But his chest had been gouged open, and his heart had been taken. Not only was that bizarre, but nothing else appeared wrong with him, aside from that his heart was missing. For the entire world it looked like he had just tripped and landed on the bed with a surprised look on his face. Nothing looked wrong at all, except, that there was no blood at the scene.

And that his wife was sitting in a chair directly across from his bed, head resting on her closed fist, eyes closed, and heart missing.

In memory of the baron and his wife's strange marriage and death, the emperor tore down their mansion and built an elliptical garden, with one end squished into a narrow channel where the graves of the wife and baron were placed, to be admired and remembered.

That garden would become a public place where many festivities and holidays took place. Eventually it would become a popular place for dueling, so popular that the grass and flowers would die and picnicking ladies and their strolling companions would refuse to return. Until, it would finally become, the official place of combat; formally known as the Stadium of Midoriko, named so, after the brave and faithful wife of the baron.

* * *

**AN :** I love Jaken


End file.
